


Abandon the Ring

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley is Whipped (Good Omens), Ineffable Valentines 2020 (Good Omens), M/M, Showers, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:14:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is my submission for @snek-snuggles Valentine's Day exchange! It's 2.8k words of pure fluff. No angst, no smut, just whipped Crowley.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Abandon the Ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OctoShipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctoShipper/gifts).



> This is by far my longest fic! I made a great friend (whom I wrote this for) during the exchange and I've learned so much from them!

Crowley took a deep breath and let it out with a huff.

“Angel, just ask. I’ll get it for you, you know that, but you’ve got to ask.” 

Aziraphale has just gotten finished with a long, boring rant about how the new Ralph Lauren reefer coat came in a plaid pattern. He used his very best puppy dog eyes every time Crowley interrupted his rambling, and his lip jutted out with a tremble when his husband sighed at the end of his little speech.

“Please, Crowley, may I have one?” Aziraphale finally gave in, beat red in the face.

“Of course you can, you silly thing,” Crowley said with exasperation, “your wish is my command.”

He slunk off the couch they were seated on and headed towards the coat rack. He slipped on his jacket and reached for the door, but turned around. 

“You’ve got me so wrapped around your pinky finger, might as well abandon the ring.” Crowley directed casually at Aziraphale, who looked taken aback.

But Crowley didn’t have much time to smirk, as he stepped out of the bookshop and took a relaxing ride to the nearest mall. He never liked shopping for himself. The only time he shopped at all was for Aziraphale - which had become a common occurrence - but he enjoyed spoiling the angel rotten.

When he arrived, he shifted awkwardly in his leather jacket. He was surrounded by beige and plaid attire. Navigating clothing sections would never fail to baffle him. He wandered aimlessly for several minutes before he found the expensive jackets. 

A small-statured employee startled Crowley when he spoke up.

“Can I help you, sir?” 

The employee reminded Crowley of a teenage Adam.

“Ngk,” Crowley said, “I’m a little, uh, confused. I’m shopping for my.. er… partner, and I’m having some trouble finding what it was he wanted.”

“Ah, yes, you looked a little lost! What was it you’re looking for?” The kid said cheerily. 

Crowley chuckled awkwardly. “Do you have.. em.. tartan trench coats..?” 

“Sure! Several people have been enquiring about our newest Ralph Lauren item that matches that kind of description, if you’re interested.”

“Yes!” Crowley felt suddenly proud of himself for remembering. “That was it. Er. That was what he wanted.”

“You can follow me, I’ll bring you to it.”

The teenager led him through isles of coats (that all looked the same to Crowley), until they arrived at the most Aziraphale-looking piece of clothing that Crowley had ever seen.

“This would be it! I hope that helped a bit.” The employee said. He departed before Crowley could thank him - he was so distracted by the thought of how he hadn’t already picked this coat out before.

Crowley picked the jacket that was most Aziraphale sized, and slung the hanger gently over his shoulder. He had the sudden urge to spoil the angel, (not that he didn’t always feel that need), and set off to find some chocolates - and a cherub pin for Aziraphale’s new coat.

He finished his errand rather slowly and with caution - he wanted to have something nice for his husband. On the ride home, he stopped at a coffee shop to pick up his online order of hot chocolate with steamed milk. When he pulled up to the book shop, he swaggered across the sidewalk and barged into its doors will his hands full of treats.

Aziraphale visibly jumped at the intrusion, but his face crinkled into a large smile. Crowley wondered if he deserved to see such a blessed sight - Aziraphale in pajamas, grinning at him with a smile that seemed to get bigger every time he saw Crowley.

“You’re back!” Aziraphale said cheekily. His eyes focused on the monstrous mess of bags. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Crowley. Every time I send you out to buy one item, you come home with 100!” Yet his tone didn’t match the blush that had spread across his cheeks.

“Aw, damn, guess I’d better return it all, then…” Crowley replied quickly, flaunting a cheesy smirk. “C’monnn, don’t you wanna see what I spoilt you with?” He said, accent coming out thick.

“Well.. I suppose…” Aziraphale chuckled when he met Crowley’s eyes.

Crowley miracled the plastic wrapping off of the much-wanted coat, and Aziraphale gasped. 

“Good Lord! You got the right one!” He said excitedly.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Crowley said, but he was clearly amused. 

Aziraphale closed the distance between them, and leaned in to see the pin that Crowley had placed there. 

“Oh, my goodness, is that a little cherub on the collar? How darling!” 

Crowley leaned in and pecked him on the cheek in a fluid (nonchalant, of course) motion. He could feel the heat of love radiating off of Aziraphale, who was practically vibrating with happiness. 

Crowley gathered himself. 

“Look what else, angel.” 

He pulled chocolates in a heart shaped box out from the inside of his jacket.

“Really, Crowley! You’ve outdone yourself, my love.”

Crowley had to act like the nickname didn’t choke him up. 

“Er.. there’s flowers, too, back in the Bentley.”

“My word.” Aziraphale took the items from Crowley’s arms and set them (carefully) down on the sofa. When he turned to face the demon again, Crowley’s arms were open, expectantly waiting for a hug. 

Aziraphale all but crashed into his embrace, his pudgy arms wrapping around Crowley’s neck. He shoved his face into the crook, and took a deep breath. Crowley’s arms laid loosely around his husband’s waist, and he smiled. He turned his head and pushed it into Aziraphale’s hair for a short moment, before leaning down to pepper his cheek with soft pecks. The angel nuzzled further into his neck, and moved impossibly closer. 

They stayed like that - glued to each other - for several minutes. Aziraphale only moved to ask innocently for cuddles. 

They had developed a bit of a habit: Aziraphale would lay his head on Crowley’s chest, and Crowley would read to him until he felt calm enough to fall asleep. Sometimes it was difficult for Aziraphale to go to bed, but it definitely helped to be coddled.

They moved with no urgency to the bedroom, where Crowley flopped onto the left side and stretched his arms out across the mattress. Aziraphale curled into his side as tightly as he could, and Crowley wrapped them both up with the duvet. 

“Can you listen to my heartbeat, sweetheart?” Crowley requested, and Aziraphale obeyed calmly with a hum. “What book are we reading tonight?” 

“I’ve not gotten a chance to start my newest one. Perhaps that one, dear?” 

“You got it.” Crowley waved his hand in a circular motion, and Aziraphale’s newest book appeared in his grasp. It was a book called The Polar Bear Catastrophe That Never Happened, and it was incredibly boring to anyone who didn’t have a special interest in weird books - but Crowley didn’t mind. He simply began to read with a voice only reserved for his angel. 

Aziraphale snored lightly on Crowley’s chest after only 10 minutes of reading. Crowley sang him a proper lullaby about babies in baskets, until his eyelids began to droop. They stayed curled together for the entirety of the night, and laid sleeping until far after sunrise.

The sun had been shining in through the window for a couple of hours when Aziraphale stirred. Crowley had been staring at him fondly, playing with his hair, pressing soft kisses to his head. He pretended that he wasn’t watching the angel sleep... but Aziraphale turned, looked at him tenderly, and accused him.

“Do you intend on watching me sleep for the rest of our lives?” He said bluntly. 

“Ngk,” Crowley choked, “I guess there’s something endearing about you drooling on my silk shirt.” 

Aziraphale flushed, hiding his face in Crowley’s armpit in embarrassment.

“It’s adorable, angel. And you look so… at peace.” 

“Oh, you hush now.” Aziraphale said, muffled by the fabric of Crowley’s shirt.

Crowley tickled Aziraphale lightly on the back of his neck, who turned and shot him a pout. Crowley swooned.

“What’s on the books for today?” Crowley asked.

“I’d like to have a cuddle for a while longer… then maybe you can do that heavenly massage thing you do with those hands of yours.” Aziraphale said matter-of-factly.

“Sounds rather nice, I say.” Crowley said, and tightened his left arm around Aziraphale’s waist. He tilted Aziraphale’s chin up, and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Mm..” Aziraphale began to tease, “Are you sure?” 

“Oh, I’m positive, darling.”

Aziraphale squished his face against Crowley’s.

“I’m not sure I’m convinced…” 

Crowley breathed a strong breath.

“You gotta ask for what you’d like, hon. Just ask.. and I’ll make it happen.”

There was a short silence while Aziraphale willed himself to ask for what he wanted.

“Could you.. say it again?” Aziraphale said softly, his cheeks bright red - radiating heat against Crowley’s own face. 

“I love you.” Crowley spoke tenderly.

“Again?”

“I love you, angel.”

“One more time?”

“I love you, I love you, I love you so much.” 

Crowley had his eyes fixed on his husband, forcing himself not to attack the angel with love. 

Aziraphale murmured, “I love you… so much. I just adore you.”

Crowley smiled.

“Feeling’s mutual, dove.” He said, brushing the fringe out of his eyes. He traded a pattern on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Would you care to take a shower? I could give you that massa-“ 

“Yes, please.” Aziraphale interrupted.

“Oi, I wasn’t even finished! Someone’s eager to have his back rubbed, eh?” Crowley said, nudging Aziraphale as a signal to head towards the shower.

When they reached the bathroom, Aziraphale slipped his socks off and hissed as his feet hit the cool tile floor. He pulled his clothes off quickly and dropped them in a pile near the air vent, suddenly becoming very cold. Crowley crept up behind him, wrapping his lanky arms around the angel’s plump, shivering frame. He pressed a lingering kiss to the bare shoulder. His hands were warm against Aziraphale’s chilly skin. 

“You smell so good,” Crowley mumbled. “S’almost a shame to wash it off.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “I suspect like cinnamon rolls?”

“Actually, yeah.”

“That’s what I ate late last night.”

“Ah. A cinnamon roll for my cinnamon roll.” Crowley said, but cringed at how cheesy it was. Yet, it had Aziraphale blushing like a fool. “Let’s get some warm water on you, eh?”

Crowley turned the shower on, miracling it to the perfect temperature. Aziraphale clumsily took a step in, sighing at the pleasant water pressure. He held his hands across his stomach in insecurity, to which Crowley removed them, bent down, and placed a kiss to his belly.

“You’re perfect, angel.” Crowley said, grinning lightly.

Aziraphale blushed down at him. “Get in here, you’re getting your sleeves wet.”

Crowley’s clothes were off soon after that. He hopped behind Aziraphale and was quick to begin massaging the angel’s scalp. He poured some of the oatmeal shampoo into his hands, and rubbed it thoroughly into the other’s hair. 

“Tilt back, gotta wash it out now.” Crowley said fondly. Aziraphale tipped his head back so it was touching Crowley’s chest, under the stream. Crowley covered the angel’s eyes with one slim hand, the other working to get the suds out. 

“All good.” Crowley concluded, though he spent several extra seconds basking in the feeling of having a malleable principality under his fingers.

Aziraphale brought his head back upright and turned to face his husband. His wet hair flopped ungracefully into his face, and he pushed it out of his eyes with urgency. 

“Oh, my, water stings when it gets in the eyeballs!” Aziraphale hissed. Crowley chuckled at this, but dabbed at Aziraphale’s face with a washcloth that had been stowed away. 

Aziraphale continued, “Now, my turn under the water, you hog.” 

“M’not a hog..” Crowley pretended to pout, but switched their positions nonetheless.

Aziraphale breathed in the shower steam, and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. They were facing each other, and Crowley looked at him dazedly. Water droplets were in perfect place on the angel’s eyelashes, some falling down his pinkened face. His mouth was opened slightly, his soft lips plush and wet, trembling occasionally with happy breaths. Crowley’s eyes dropped to Aziraphale’s hands, that were resting across his chest in an almost half-hug. His chubby pinky finger was curled into his left palm, and his nails were marvelously manicured as usual. It was a sight that Crowley felt that no one should be deserving enough to see, with the exception of himself. 

‘What cute little hands he has.’ his internal monologue supplied.

Crowley continued to gaze longingly at the angel’s perfect figure until Aziraphale broke their comfortable silence.

“You really do have a problem with staring, my dear.” Crowley’s eyes darted to Aziraphale’s face, which was smiley and red. 

“What, d’you find it rude that I like to sit back and observe your beauty?” Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale hummed. 

“Quite the opposite, really. I rather like… when you look at me like that,” Aziraphale paused and pursed his lips. “Like I’m pretty.”

Crowley gawked at that. “That’s ‘cause you are pretty, sweetheart. The most darling thing in the universe.” He said, sweet as honey. Aziraphale blushed harder, if that were possible, under Crowley’s eyes on him. 

The angel hummed in contentment. 

“Why, this is just ducky.” He said.

“’Just ducky’? Way to ruin the moment.” Crowley said, but he giggled. “Water’s gettin’ cold, angel.”

“Either one of us could change that..” Aziraphale protested.

“Fair, but I’d rather not turn into a prune.”

Aziraphale smiled, leaned in, and pressed their bodies together. It was really the opposite of a sexual action - he just really liked to be held. Crowley rested his head on top of his husband’s. He rubbed up and down Aziraphale’s back, who made a happy noise. 

“Ya like that, hm?” 

“Mhmmm.” 

They stayed like that for a little while, until Crowley became a little antsy. 

“Out you get.” Crowley said, holding back the shower curtain. His other hand steadied the angel as he took a step onto the bath mat. 

Aziraphale smiled in thanks as he clambered out. Crowley followed, and he grabbed blindly for a towel. He wrapped it around Aziraphale, who wiggled happily under his touch. The demon rubbed up and down his sides and buried his nose in the angel’s neck, inhaling deeply.

“Mmmm. Still like cinnamon.”

Aziraphale scoffed indignantly, “And you like to say that I ruin moments.” 

The angel pressed his chubby cheek against Crowley’s head. “I’m rather chilly, dear.” He complained.

“Well then... Let us warm you up!” Crowley replied, lifting Aziraphale up bridal-style as he let out a squawk. He walked ungracefully to the bedroom where he plopped his husband down, and promptly fell flat on top of him. 

“Rude!” Aziraphale said, full of cheer. 

Crowley looked at him in the eyes, and pecked him all over his face.

“You.” 

Peck.

“Are the.”

An especially sloppy kiss to the nose.

“Most beautiful.”

Peck.

“Little angel.”

Peck to both cheeks.

“In the universe.”

He pulled back and flashed a grin at an embarrassed angel.

“Ah, you really shouldn’t spoil me so much. No wonder you’ve gone native!” Aziraphale teased.

Crowley tutted. “You love me.”

“Maybe.” 

Crowley winked.

“Shucks,” Aziraphale gave in, “I really do.”

Crowley smushed his face against the angel’s.

“Would you fancy a cuppa?” The demon asked.

“Sure, darling.” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley fought back a smile at the endearment. “Stay here, I’ll serve one to you.” He said, smirking as he sat up.

“Crowley. I can’t have you doing everything around here!” Aziraphale scolded jokingly, sitting up as well.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Crowley said, giving a look that just begged, ‘please, let me.’

Aziraphale sighed and made a ‘get on with it’ hand motion. The demon threw on a robe.

As Crowley went about making tea in the kitchen, Aziraphale got ready for the day. He wore his husband’s favorite bowtie - a dark red one. Though it was still plaid, Crowley always said, ‘how dashing!’ when he saw it.

After he was dressed, the angel listened in on Crowley. He could hear humming and the musical clinks of a spoon being stirred in a cup. Soon, the sound of footsteps neared the room, and Aziraphale pretended he was reading.

Crowley kicked the door open with his right foot, and placed a warm mug onto the dresser.

“Mind tellin’ me why that book’s upside down?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale looked shocked, but wasted no time clearing his throat. “Thank you, dear.”

Crowley hummed in affirmation. He placed a sweet kiss on Aziraphale's forehead.

“D’you know what song I was singing?” 

“You were humming, Crowley. There’s a difference.” Aziraphale said smugly.

“So you were listening?”

“N-no! I just- er..” 

Crowley smirked. “So fuckin’ cute, you are.”

“Language!” Aziraphale chided, wringing his hands.

“Hey, now... Quit fretting n’ being embarrassed, s’alright.” Crowley said, running his fingers through damp curls. 

“You’re so good to me.”

“M’ a demon, m’not good to anyone.” Crowley said. “But you deserve it.” he said, quieter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! My Tumblr is @softboyhannibal :)


End file.
